08 Wednesday Apr 2015
A swooping line
A twisting span
A rough hollow
An angle, sharp
A smooth soft warmth
A hard jumbled stretch..
With gentle fingers, slow contact
and light gaze-
the textures of your life,
this sculpting of who you are-
each day you explore form of spirit
and shape it with the quality of
your own touch.
Make it kind.
07 Tuesday Apr 2015
Wind rocks the trees
at last.
They’ve been asking when
they’d get to dance,
and only flirtations greeted their longing.
Rain wets singing birds,
the sound enters darkened sky.
Singing in a storm-
fruition of a lifetime’s work.
The invitation is always there.
04 Saturday Apr 2015
Packs of begging children roam Delhi streets,
walk through traffic,
reach into open taxi windows-
western faces a target.
How they got there, how they are organized,
how they get by,
is undoubtedly a terrible story.
Meanwhile, there are those of us choosing
to suffer to be closer to God.
Delusion is thick if hurting that which is sacred
appears to be a requirement of the Infinite;
as if living fully the life given isn’t enough to remove
a blindness placing the gates of heaven without.
Returning our vision,
to where muscle moves blood,
and lungs exchange air, and
kindness becomes a language of its own-
there
we remember our Divinity.
In coming home,
we find refuge and
stop harming the world around us.
30 Monday Mar 2015
When rhesus monkeys come
to Dharamsala,
the cedars speak louder their wordsong
and blue green saturates sky
made milky by rains.
Taking coffee at a bistro table and
looking up to catch eyes looking down–
Moonpeak behind and unwalked horizon ahead–
wedding pen to paper becomes
a most important act.
25 Wednesday Mar 2015
I weave gold
from Light.
When next you find yourself reaching for rope
to heft yourself back up from the cavern,
I’ll be within your palms
for eager fingers to twist around.
The strength is in you,
the Way is in me.
Nothing created lacks
the gifts of gold,
if only you will commit yourself
to listen.
19 Thursday Mar 2015
Older even than yesterday,
not by loss or separation but
through integration.
Finding one’s bones calls together pieces
held apart
by the paralysis of stories requesting endings.
When settled back into bones,
whole now,
a new story begins.
Fire and Wind,
Light and Shadow,
Earth and Water,
the pairs learn
where to weave their edges-
fingers finding each other in warm dark.
This is full movement,
empowerment,
the invitation of Being.
For that,
there are no words.
15 Sunday Mar 2015
You call my name
when I go to that place I don’t understand,
the one where the word for terror was unknown.
Your firm, tender voice reaches in,
helps pull me out
of history that feels like a drowning.
Reclamation becomes devotion.
New birds continue to perch on the tree,
a proof the threatening waters
did not claim me.
When you call, I return
from somewhere losing its strength
to possess.
Difficult to say,
but I couldn’t do this alone.
I hear you call,
Thank you.
10 Tuesday Mar 2015
Such daring as this,
as this,
the brilliant awakening of spirit to form,
the recollection of our song,
song of the universe.
We clear the way,
set fire to the brush, roll boulders away,
push dead, fallen trees back from the path-
We face our fears,
welcome and dismantle them,
in a full-bodied knowing
of our own magnificence.
06 Friday Mar 2015
You are worth
radical loving
and if there’s a tug at the thought-
a hand pulling down that rising red balloon-
you might ask
why
and drink a draft
that whispers back,
privately,
Oh You, begin
your masterfully passionate affair
with yourself.
28 Saturday Feb 2015
Posted in becoming, courage, devotion, fearlessness, freedom, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on Falcon’s Erudition
Recall her.
Cry out against what was taken,
Shout back.
Historical reclamation of the sky is
Falcon’s erudition.
No effort wasted on explanation
only
Complete trust in body knowledge-
Flight and the hunt
instinctual as waking.
Come forth,
The weightlessness of self-possession
calls you.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 